


7 years

by Danagirl623



Series: Parentlock [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 13:21:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14749652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Danagirl623/pseuds/Danagirl623
Summary: Rosie's seventh birthday. She's going through a Harry Potter phase.





	7 years

Sherlock received a text message from John, and it was that text message that changed Rosie’s seventh birthday. (and to be honest, Sherlock’s opinion of himself.)  
I emailed you the link to Pottermore. Get yourself Sorted so we can decorate appropriately. XO JW  
Don’t be so bossy. I’m Ravenclaw. Rosie said so XO SH  
Take it. I’m not Gryffindor as expected. JW  
Ugh. I hate you. SH  
Don’t forgot to pick RW up at 5 tonight. They had a museum trip. JW  
Yes, dear. I know. SH  
I’m at the class until 20:00. Pick something good for dinner. JW  
Can’t you just quit the university? I miss you. SH  
No darling. You’ll need to cope without me for a few hours. After tonight, I’m done teaching for 6 weeks. You can handle it. JW  
Hateful husband. SH  
Temperamental child. JW 

Sherlock stopped texting John back because he knew John was going to be an arse about this stupid sorting until he actually did it. He clicked on the link and signed up for an account. He took his time answering the questions the Sorting Hat had asked him. Finally it was time to declare him a-  
The screen filled yellow and black. “Welcome to Hufflepuff!” it said.  
“What the fuck?” Sherlock asked, hitting the laptop. He picked up his phone and called Lestrade. “Graham-”  
“It’s Greg!”  
“Do you have some case I can work on?”  
“No, I’m actually wrapped up in court this week.”  
“This is utter bullshit!” Sherlock exclaimed before he disconnected. He dialed Mycroft’s number.  
“Brother mine. Who has you kidnapped now?”  
“No one.” He snarled.  
“Why are you calling me? I can count on one hand the number of times you’ve called me.”  
“Do you have a puzzle for me?”  
“Oh, coming to beg sweeties. Are you high?”  
“I’m not.” he said, through gritted teeth. “I just need a puzzle.”  
“Sorry, brother mine. No can do.” Mycroft disconnected so he didn’t have to listen to the brewing tantrum.  
Sherlock picked up his phone again, and texted John.  
That test is fucking bullshit! SH  
What house did you get? JW  
Hufflepuff! SH  
Me too! JW  
So the test is broken. SH  
It’s not. Our family is a family full of Huffs. JW  
Do not throw a fit over this. Rosie loves her house and if you say one bad thing about it I’ll skin you alive. JW  
It’s Rosie’s house? SH  
Yes. So get off your high horse and start living the Huff life. JW  
Sherlock threw his phone down, and assumed his thinking pose. So it was Rosie’s house too. That wasn’t so bad then. If they were smart enough to let her in then it probably the best house for him too. John was there too. Mmmmm.  
A blaring car alarm went off some hours later. It was the alarm John had set to remind Sherlock to get Rosie. It pulled him from his thoughts and pushed him to action. He grabbed his Belstaff and scarf. Springtime be damned! He walked to the school, and waited for his daughter. She found him before he found her. “Papa!” She cried, running over and hugging him. “What’s the code?”  
“Bees live in hives.” Sherlock smiled at her. “What’s yours?”  
“Helga Hufflepuff is my favorite founder.” She pulled away from him. “Hi! I missed you today!”  
“Did you?” Sherlock asked, smiling. He crouched down and let her climb on his back. “Tell me about the museum.”  
“Papa, I did something a bit not good today.”  
“Uh oh, love. What is it?” Sherlock asked, walking back to the house.  
“I played ‘ductions with the tour guide and she left crying.” Rosie said, “But I couldn’t help it. All these words came at me and sometimes I read out loud.” Sherlock lowered her to the ground, and sat down to talk to her. He pulled her into his lap and didn’t give a flying fuck that he was in the middle of the sidewalk on a busy street.  
“Did you try the breathing we talked about?” Sherlock asked.  
She nodded, tearfully. “I even tried counting. I tried not to do it Daddy. I just couldn’t help it. The words just came out and I didn’t mean to tell her that her mum was dying. I didn’t mean it.” Rosie was full out sobbing at this point. Sherlock kissed her head over and over.  
“I know baby. Shhh. Shhh. Baby it’s ok.” Sherlock said, rubbing her back. She buried her face in his shoulder and cried her eyes out. He rubbed her back, and gave her the time she needed to cry. “Want to go see Angelo?” Rosie shook her head, sadly. “Do you want to see your flute player friend?” Rosie shook her head.  
“I want my Daddy.” She started sobbing again. Sherlock nodded his head, and stood up swiftly. He picked her up and hailed a cab. He gave the cab driver the address, and climbed in. The ride to the college was quiet. Once they got there, Sherlock tipped well, and picked up his daughter again. He carried her through the campus, until he found John’s classroom. John was sitting at the front of the lecture hall watching the few students left taking their final exams. Sherlock looked in the room, and caught John’s eye. John nodded his consent. Quietly Sherlock entered the room. He walked over to his husband and stood with his back to the class. In a voice just above a whisper, he explained what happened and why Rosie was crying. Rosie was sniffling still.  
“Stay here and watch my students. Give her here to me.” Sherlock walked around the desk and gave his husband their daughter. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and John carried her from the lecture hall. Sherlock sat down behind the desk. Two or three students brought up their tests and exited the hall. Sherlock drummed his fingers on the desk. He was inpatient, but he knew better than to interrupt John when he was actively dadding. So he waited.  
Finally John and Rosie entered the lecture hall again. She was walking beside John, and the tears were gone from her face. Rosie came over to Sherlock and hugged her. “Can we go get fish and chips?” she whispered.  
Sherlock looked at John and John smiled mildly.  
“Dr. Watson. Can I ask you a question?” a student called out. John kissed his husband and his daughter before they walked out.  
“Let’s go get some fish and chips.” Sherlock agreed.  
“Papa, I’m sorry talking to you didn’t make me feel better.” Rosie apologized, as they left the campus. Sherlock shot her a WTF look.  
“Sometimes a girl just needs her Daddy, that’s all.” Sherlock said, smiling at her.  
Rosie shook her head. “No, Papa. I needed Daddy because he always helps calm you down when your ‘ductions are too much and I tried your tricks and they didn’t help.”  
Sherlock smiled at her and stopped walking. He crouched down to her level, and kissed her on the nose. She giggled. “Your daddy is the only one that can turn my brain off too. So I understand completely.”  
Rosie hugged her Papa. “Carry me!” She demanded. Sherlock picked her up and carried her to her fish and chips cart. They ordered her dinner, and she ate it as Sherlock carried her home. Finally they got back to 221B Baker Street. Rosie threw her trash away and put her backpack on its hook. She kissed Sherlock on the cheek. “I’m going for my bath, Papa.”  
“Ok, my girl.” Sherlock said, “Oh! Baby! I took the Pottermore test. Guess which house?”  
“Ravenclaw!” She shouted.  
“Nope! Huff!” He grinned at her.  
She grinned at him. “You have the same house as Dad and I!”  
“Oh, wow! I had no clue!”  
“Papa, that’s awesome. Best news all day.” She turned up the stairs and disappeared. Sherlock threw himself down on the couch and sighed. He sent John a text.  
Send Angelo’s. I’m dying. SH  
Order your own Angelo’s. I’m in grading hell. I found the three tests you graded. You’re an arse. JW  
THEY MISSPELLED TONGUE. SH  
Yes, love. JW 

Sherlock texted Angelo and asked him to bring him and John dinner. Sherlock got off the couch and walked over to Rosie’s packback. He pulled her communication folder out. There was a note from the teacher explaining what happened with the deductions. Sherlock sighed. He left it on the counter for John. He texted Mycroft.  
Can you make a donation to the British Museum in the name of Rosie Watson? SH  
How much of a donation? MH  
50,000 SH  
What did you do? MH  
Rosie’s deductions got away from her. So ultimately, this is your fault. If you hadn’t taught me how to do it, then I wouldn’t have taught her. SH  
Done. MH  
Sherlock wondered if it was the right thing to do. I mean, Rosie would never know about the money. It made him feel better to throw money at a mistake that Rosie couldn’t control. John wouldn’t know he donated that money. He nodded his head, then threw himself back on the couch.  
John when are you coming home? SH  
I’m stopping at Angelo’s to pick up your dinner, my liege. JW  
John, you’re a saint. SH

When John finally got home with the food, Sherlock was asleep on the couch. John laughed, and put the food down on the table. He went upstairs to Rosie’s room and knocked on the door. She was still awake. “Who is it?”  
“It’s your Dad.” John said, smiling.  
“Come in, Daddy.” she called. John walked into her room, and sat down on the bottom of her bed. “Hi.”  
“So, Ms. Rosamund. I see you have bathed, and are all squeaky clean. Did Papa feed you?”  
“Yes, Daddy.”  
“Harry Potter, again?” He asked, checking the cover. It was Tesla’s biography.  
“I came down to ask Papa to read it to me, but he was asleep. So I climbed into bed and read it to myself.”  
“May I?” John asked, taking the book from her. He read to her for another 20 minutes or so. She fell asleep quickly, but John gave her extra time to really fall asleep. John got up, kissed her head, and turned her lamp off. He went downstairs to rouse his husband. He flopped down on the couch on top of Sherlock. He grunted, and hugged John to him.  
“She’s a beastie.”  
“She’s a child with the intelligence of a Holmes. Sometimes she needs to be handled like a child, not an adult.”  
“I held her and patted her back. I let her cry. I asked her if she wanted to see Angelo, her flute player friend. She didn’t.”  
“She asked for me.” John said, Sherlock nodded. “Oh, love. Do me a favor, don’t grade my finals ever again.”  
“Why? I knew all the answers.”  
“Not all of your answers were correct.”  
“What?” Sherlock asked, opening his one eye. He fixed John with a steely eye. “Yes they were. I’m a scientist. I know stuff.”  
“Funnily enough, the Aorta is not connected to the idiot box.”  
“Of course it is. All your students are the idiot boxes.”  
“Stop it.” John commanded. “Are you going to eat?”  
“Yes. Don’t bully me.” Sherlock whined, trying to wiggle out from under John.  
“I’ll bully you whenever I see fit. I’m the king!” John claimed. Pinning Sherlock under him using his Hulk-like strength.  
“You are such a spoiled brat!” Sherlock said, finally wiggling away from John. He landed on the floor with a dull thud. “Great! Now Mrs. Hudson is going to think we’re screwing.”  
John stretched out, and sighed happily. “Good night, Sherlock.” 

The day of Rosie’s birthday party was a rainy one. She had talked John into inviting the football team, but most of them had other plans so it was only going to be Rosie and 3 of her teammates. John was beyond ok with that. Molly Lestrade picked her up early and took her out for the morning. John, Sherlock, and Mrs. Hudson turned the living room, kitchen, and bathrooms into Hogwarts. They decorated the living room in yellow and black. They hung up a Moaning Myrtle in the bathroom. The kitchen was converted to a potions lab.  
By the time Molly brought Rosie back, her apartment was transformed into something magical. As soon as Rosie walked in the living room, she started making deductions.  
“Oi!” Sherlock called, hearing her rattle things off. “I’m going to need you to turn your huge brain off.”  
Rosie giggled, and ran over and hugged him. “Hi Papa! Molly and I had so much fun this morning! We went to the bakery and then the bookstore!”  
“Rosie, I’m going home to get Greg up. He had a rough night-”  
“Yes I know.” Rosie said, nodding wisely.  
“I’ll see you tonight for tea, love.”  
Rosie ran over and hugged her. “Bye Aunt Molly! Thanks for a great morning.”  
“Goodbye my darling girl.” Molly made her exit just as Rosie caught Mrs. Hudson in the kitchen  
“MRS. HUDSON!” Rosie screeched, then ran over to her. Very gently she hugged her around her hips. “How are you? It’s my birthday party today!”  
“Yes, my cherub I know. I’ve been helping your dads set up.”  
“Thank you, Mrs. Hudson!” Rosie grinned up at her. “Are you staying for the party?”  
“Oh, no, my love. I’m going to go take a nice hot bath. This rain is making my hip unhappy.”  
Rosie nodded, and didn’t seem to have anything else to say. She hugged Mrs. Hudson again, and then ran over to her Papa. Mrs. Hudson took that moment to make her exit. “Papa. May I play with my legos?”  
“Oh, I’m sorry my girl.” her Daddy answered. “I need you to go practice your violin.”  
“Dadddd!” She whined, “I’m having such a lovely birthday party day. Do I have to?”  
“Of course you do, my sweet girl.” John said, firmly. He looked over to Sherlock who nodded his agreement.  
“Fine!” Rosie said, seeing that arguing was pointless. She went up to her bedroom and squealed loudly when she saw her Hogwarts robes. “Can I change or should I practice first?” She called down.  
“You can change, but I do expect practice.” John said.  
“She should have known something was up. You never tell her to practice.” Sherlock grinned at his husband. John walked over to Sherlock and wrapped his arms around him.  
“You better get your lips on me now that we’re alone.” John said, grinning. Sherlock kissed his husband happily. “Mmm.” John agreed happily, tucking his head under Sherlock’s chin.  
“Are you wearing your Quidditch Captain shirt?”  
“Yes I am.”  
“I’m wearing my keeper shirt.” Sherlock said, shyly.  
“You like it?”  
“Obviously.” Sherlock grinned. He kissed the top of John’s head, and held him for a minute.  
“Thank you for everything you’re doing for us. I know this is not the typical Holmes attitude towards life.”  
“John Hamish.” Sherlock said, with a gentle tone.  
“She’s not practicing yet.” John muttered, to remind Sherlock to parent.  
“Rosie, girl!” Sherlock called.  
“I know, Papa!” She replied.  
“As I was saying, John Hamish. I would like to believe that my behavior lately has been less Holmes and more Watson.”  
John thought about those words. “I’ll agree. All right, you snuggle bug. Go finish your job. I’ve got to go change.”  
“Mmm.” Sherlock held tight to John. “I could help you.”  
“Get dressed?” John asked, then realized what he was saying. “Absolutely not, husband mine.”  
“John!” Sherlock whined, in that soft voice that made John sound like “Jawn.”  
“Today, we are parents first, Sherlock, then lovers.” John reminded him.  
“Hateful.” He pronounced.  
“You’re a brat, Sherlock Holmes.” John said, walking away from him.  
“I learned all my tricks from you!” he retorted. He stood on his tippy toes and banged on the ceiling. “Practice!”  
“Sorry, papa!” she called, hopping up to to get with the praciting.  
John disappeared into the bedroom and quickly changed into his Quidditch outfit. He came out of the bedroom, and gave Sherlock a very strict “don’t you be dirty, you perverted old man” look. Sherlock whistled at him, then licked his lips wolfishly. “Stop it creeper.” he commanded. Sherlock disappeared into the bedroom to change.  
After about ten minutes of distracted practice, Rosie came down the stairs, and threw herself onto the couch. “I’m not practicing right now.”  
“And why is that sweet girl?” John asked, with a smile.  
“Because my sleeves are too long.”  
“Good reason.” Sherlock said, with a grin. He reappeared in the main room of the apartment. “Where are we now? What should I be doing?”  
“Calling Angelo’s about catering.” John said, eyeing him. He had masturbated. That brat! John shook his head, and turned to the birthday girl. “Sweet Rosie. I hope you know that Papa and I spent a lot of money on this party, so the present we got you is a tiny one.”  
“That’s ok, Daddy. I don’t need any presents! I just wanted to have a Hogwarts party and I get to.” Rosie smiled at him.  
“You know that you’ll get your present from us on your actual birthday, right honey?” Sherlock called over, texting frantically.  
“She has a real birthday?” John asked, teasing.  
“Yes, Daddy! I’m going to be seven in less than 3 days. I don’t want any of that tomfoolery that I remember from my fifth birthday. I didn’t like repeating myself. I told you I was five, and you wouldn't believe it. Say you believe I’m all but seven.”  
John looked at her, wondering if this was that inflexibility her teachers at school talked about. “Daddy was…” John was trying to get Rosie to say “teasing” which is something that he had started trying. He had read several articles about inflexibility. They said that this should help, but well, Rosamund Mary Watson was the daughter of William Sherlock Scott Holmes (Read- Rosie was stubborn). What more could be said about that?  
“Mean! I was five! I just wanted to have a nice birthday!”  
“You did have a nice birthday in the end.” Sherlock pointed out.  
“Please,” She begged. “Just don’t tease me on my birthday.”  
“Rosie.” Sherlock said, sternly. “Your daddy shows his love for us by teasing us. It’s illogical, but that’s how Daddy is.”  
“Why, Papa?”  
“Oh, I don’t know anymore than you do.” He said, waving off the question.  
There was a knock on the door, and Rosie ran over. “Hello, friends!” She greeted them with a big smile. At the door stood Rosie’s three teammates with their parents behind them. “Won’t you please come in?” She asked, politely.  
John hurried over and made introductions between the parents and his husband. Quickly Sherlock took the kids to get sorted, then dressed in school robes. Then he performed a wand picking ceremony. John entertained the parents, and chatted easily with them.  
Sherlock was enjoying himself, and he knew Rosie was too. It was written all over her face. John didn’t have to play the deductions game to see that they were both enjoying themselves immensely. When the food was delivered, John found himself near his husband for the first time in nearly an hour. “You are doing so well, darling husband.” Sherlock smiled brightly at his husband.  
“They think my science is cool.”  
“Of course it is, love.” John grinned, leaned in for a quick kiss. Sherlock glanced at the other adults before chastely kissing his husband. “I’ve had thoughts about that violin bow of yours.”  
“Have you?” Sherlock looked at him, then smiled softly again.  
“One day, I’ll tell you.” John promised, eyes flashing at him.  
“Well, excuse me, John, I have sciencey stuff to do.” Sherlock escaped before his cheeks could get redder.  
John smiled to himself, as he joined the other parents. They welcomed him back in the little knot of parents with smiles all around. He hated that he fit in so easily, and Sherlock still felt like an outsider. He sometimes felt guilty over it.  
“Daddy!” Rosie shouted, running up to him. “Papa says I have to eat pizza before I can have cake. Tell him it’s my birthday!”  
“I think Papa’s right.” John smiled at her, kissing her nose. She stared angrily at him. “Hey it’s not your birthday yet, darling girl. Go eat a slice of pizza. You don’t want your Papa to refuse to cut the cake, do you?”  
“He wouldn’t!” Rosie gasped.  
“You know how stubborn he is.”  
Rosie pulled a sour face, exclaimed “Bah!”, and went back over to her friends.  
The blonde mum smiled at John. “Please teach me that trick.”  
“Is your partner stubborn?” He smiled kindly at her.  
“No way. He’s a marshmallow.” She giggled. John joined in with her laughter.  
“John.” The other dad sitting on the couch said. “I have to tell you, your kid is really a good kid. Sarah,” Ah, so he was Sarah’s dad. Sarah was the girl with dark hair and glasses. She always lost her glasses. “Was telling me that one of the bigger kids was picking on Ethan-”  
“Oh my god, she adores Ethan.” The mum that had not spoken yet, finally spoke. It was the classroom helper mom. “Ethan is glued to Rosie’s side all day at school.”  
“Who was picking on Ethan?” John asked, turning back to the other dad.  
“Oh, some middle schooler, and Rosie marched right over to them. She balled up her fists, and said, “You’re just an angry boy because your Mum gives you a funny hair cut! Come on, Ethan, I’ll race you to the swings.” I only saw it because I was dropping Sarah off at school.”  
John chuckled, and shook his head. “She’s got her Papa’s mouth.”  
Sherlock slid into the seat next to him, and added, “And her Daddy’s Irish temper.”  
Everyone laughed at John’s expense, but there was no malice in their words. “Sherl, they were just telling me how Rosie is friends with Ethan.”  
“Oh, yes! Ethan Sturm. He’s a good kid. He waits with her until I get there, then he goes back in the school. I think his mum’s a teacher.” Sherlock nodded, before he took a bite of the pizza.  
“Ethan has asperger's so no one really likes to talk to him.” The classroom helper mum supplied.  
“Is he really smart?” Sherlock asked, politely. Even though he knew Ethan’s IQ was higher than Rosie’s.  
“Oh yeah! He is working on fourth year work.”  
John listened to the idle chatter, and grinned to himself. He took Sherlock’s hand and squeezed it twice. It was their secret message of “I love you. I’m here. I’ve got your back.” Sherlock squeezed it back, and didn’t blink an eye when he disentangled their hands. John walked over to the kids at the kitchen table, and started sorting through the chaos. John kissed Rosie on top of her head, as she was mid storytelling. The other children were sucked into her story. John tidied up empty plates and cups. He nodded to Sherlock who called the kids over for a pinata.  
“John, do you need help with anything?” the blonde mum asked, coming over.  
“I was just going to get the cake out, and place candles.”  
“Fridge?”  
“Don’t open the fridge. I’m pretty sure there are eyeballs in there.” John said, knowing that Sherlock had purloined some from Molly’s lab just yesterday. He pulled the door open, and hid the eyes with his bum. He pulled the cake out and placed it on the table.  
“Thank you for having us over.” she said, with a smile. “Not many people invite Amy to birthday parties. It’s because she’s homeschooled.”  
“Amy’s a good kid. I just hope the rest of the world wakes up to it.”  
“I’m really glad that you invited Sarah too. She is an oddball too.”  
“Rosie wanted to invite the whole team. This is all that showed up.”  
“Oh that’s a shame.” She said, doing the math.  
“Works out for us. Sherlock and I aren’t used to so many live bodies in one area.”  
“Oh, that makes sense. You two are the famous detective Sherlock Holmes and his blogger Dr. John Watson.”  
“We’re mostly retired.” John said, fusing over where to place the candles.  
She smiled at him. “Yeah mostly.” She agreed, then wandered over to the other adults. They were gathered around the pinata, the Whomping Willow Tree, watching the kids take turns.John pressed that moment into his mind. His gorgeous husband who had been ostracized growing up (and still in the beginning of their life together) , laughing and joking with a crowd full of people (ok three other adults and four children). His favorite kid laughing and playing with her friends. His family was the best thing in this miserable cold world.  
At last, the pinata was broken and candy scattered everywhere. The adults all clapped. Sherlock handed out goody bags with Harry Potter’s face on it. The kids were getting tired, so John hastened to sugar them up with cake and ice cream. The party didn’t last much longer. Kids all hugged each other and traded candy while the adults made promises to get together again very soon. (A lie, Sherlock knew, but said it anyway. Maybe he’d meet Sarah’s dad at the park, but everyone else was too weird.)  
Rosie hugged John around the knees, and kissed his leg. “Thank you Daddy! This was a great party!”  
“How would you rate this birthday?”  
“Duh, best ever. Next to being born. I mean, duh. I wasn’t alive one year, and the next I was.” She let go of John and hugged Sherlock. “Can I go take a nap? I’m a little tired.”  
“Sure, baby.” John said, as she went upstairs. John turned to his husband, and said, “How fast do you think we can get this place decent?”  
“About ten minutes.”  
“That should give us enough time.” John nodded, running his eyes over Sherlock with a smirk. There was sex written in John’s eyes. Sherlock did not need told twice. He certainly got the hint. After the living room and kitchen were cleaned up, and the cake put away, John smiled at his husband. “You are such a good dad.”  
“Oh, I don’t know.” Sherlock said, airily.  
“Why don’t you let me thank you appropriately?” John asked, with a slam of the bedroom door.

**Author's Note:**

> I firmly believe that Sherlock is Ravenclaw and John is Gryffindor, it tickled me to no end to put them both in Huff just for fun.


End file.
